That Which Was Broken
by forensicpathologistninja
Summary: Two weeks after Aaron Echolls tied her up in a freezer and set her on fire, Veronica Mars left Neptune for good.


That Which Was Broken

AN: set after 1.22; a what if worst case scenario fic.

_Two weeks after Aaron Echolls tied her up in a freezer and set her on fire, Veronica Mars left Neptune for good. There was no longer anything for her there. No one to miss her. No one to look for her; track her down; bring her back._

_Keith Mars, dead from the severe burns that ravaged his body as he'd untied her and thrown her clear of the burning wreckage that had once been someone's back porch._

_Logan Echolls, also dead. Too much to drink, too few people to care enough to stop him, and he'd followed the one person who might have tried to pull him back off of the Coronado Bridge. He left not even a body behind, just his big yellow Xterra, parked with the engine running and radio blaring in the middle of the bridge that would overlook his final resting place._

_Eli Navarro, killed by Hector and Thumper when he tried to keep them from killing Felix. Unsuccessfully._

_Aaron Echolls, dead from complications of the burns he'd also sustained from the fire he'd set to kill Veronica. Of course, complications due tend to ensue when you're shot in the forehead. The owner of the bullet was never discovered, but Duncan Kane and Clarence Weidman mysteriously disappeared the next day with the three Manning girls._

_Even Alicia Fennel packed up her meager belongings and her sons, saying that Neptune was _not_ a place for those looking to start over._

_Veronica Mars disappeared from Neptune, and no one knew where to find her._

_For a long time, it seemed no one cared._

_She wasn't sure how she felt about this._

_

* * *

_

In the aftermath of the deaths of the four people in Neptune who kept him the busiest, Don Lamb didn't notice that his sexy nemesis was gone until it was far too late to even think about tracking her down.

Well, that wasn't _entirely _true. He'd known she'd left, but he'd assumed that, after her father's death – the devastating result of the 3rd degree burns he'd suffered over 93% of his body while rescuing his bound and gagged and semi-conscious daughter from a burning freezer – she'd just left with her mother, unable to handle the media circus Neptune had become.

He'd assumed that the reason he hadn't seen her since she was released from the hospital (or, indeed, when she was in the hospital) was that Jake Kane and Lianne Mars had pulled every string in their pockets to keep Aaron's crazed admirers from finding her. Then man-come-monster himself was in Neptune Memorial's burn ward.

It wasn't until the end of the summer that a distraught Lianne Reynolds and a furious Jake Kane stormed into his office demanding to know where _their _daughter was.

After recovering from shock at the fact that Veronica Mars was, in fact, nowhere to be found, he'd smirked and reminded Jake that Veronica wasn't _his_ child. After Keith's death, his deputies had certified _those_ results first thing.

Jake set his jaw and didn't respond, but Lamb found a sort of sadistic pleasure in depriving him of _this_ daughter. He'd been an ass to Veronica. He didn't deserve her.

Lamb started his investigation into her disappearance that day.

* * *

_"Ms. Mars, are you certain about this? When I offered you my assistance, I didn't have this in mind," the man said._

_The tiny, fragile blond before him stared him down, before turning to look out of the window. It was night, and the streets were lit up like it was the middle of the day. It made her stomach ache. She sighed._

_"The light pollution. It's getting to me. It's never dark here. I don't want to see everything dirty anymore, don't want to uncover everyone's secrets. Please just help me do this."_

_The man swallowed, nodded. After next week, he wouldn't ever be able to come back to this town either, not once he'd followed through on the only other promise he'd ever made._

_He flinched. Not the _only_ other one. He'd promised his wife forever once. But that had been a long time ago, and he hadn't seen her since his son had been born. Now he'd never see either of them again._

_"I'll arrange for the documents. The young mister Kane was very grateful that you cleared his conscience of his sister's murder. You will not have to worry about financing this," he offered up reluctantly, knowing he'd be in deep shit if he hid this from her, but still unsure of the consequences of helping her disappear._

_"Don't – don't cut all my ties, Clarence," she stammered. "If Duncan… after you guys deal with Aaron, let him find me, if he wants. Please?"_

_He didn't answer, just pressed his lips together and told her goodbye. Two days later, Veronica Mars was nothing more than a faded memory, and a brunette named Lilliana Lester flew out of LAX on a red-eye to New York. In the Big Apple, she met up with her brother-in-law, a tall black man, who escorted her to a small village in Kenya._

_

* * *

_

It is more than six years after her disappearance that Lamb finally gets his first wiff of Veronica's whereabouts. There are tales of a young photojournalist with blond hair and mischievous eyes working for National Geographic. Lamb goes all in, thinking he can finally dig her out of whatever hole she's dug for herself, but it all falls through.

The stories and photos come to the magazine through an old African-American woman known only as Mama Adele who'd settled down in Africa after many years as a noted photojournalist herself. She is one of the oldest people Don Lamb and Leo D'Amato have ever met, but she is as sharp and fit as either of them.

And twice as suspicious. When the publishers finally give them her name and address, she refuses to see them. When they finally convinced her to give them an audience, they meet her in the meeting lodge of the Kenyan tribe she lives with. She does not show them her own dwelling place.

She also does not give them much information. The photographs and stories come to her by way of her nephew, she tells them. He isn't a photographer himself, but he has an acquaintance – possibly more than one – who is handy with a lens and writes well enough. She avoides telling them the name of her nephew, and when they question her a second time, she amends that he isn't really her blood-relation – she is his godmother. She had raised him after the death of his parents when he was ten, and he'd spent most of his teen years travelling with her in Africa. Then, when he'd turned 18, he'd joined the military – she isn't sure which branch anymore – and she hadn't seen him again until six years ago, when he'd tracked her down in Kenya.

Despite their suspicions and the alarming coincidence of the dates, Mama Adele claims she's never met any of the people her godson got the stories or photos from, and can't even remember which photos had come from him and which had come from any of her five other contacts. More importantly, she insists she's never seen the little pixie of a girl in the old picture Leo gives her.

They go home, defeated.

* * *

_It was another three years before Lilliana saw anyone from her old life. She was still living with the godmother who'd raised Clarence in Namibia. At the time, they were both working as photographers, and they really owned nothing besides the clothes on their backs and the ridiculously expensive cameras that were their pride and joys and their livelihood._

_Lilliana had become more comfortable, snapping pictures of the most beautiful poverty she'd ever seen by day, and retiring to a cheap hotel room in the heart of the city at night. She did not sleep often, and though the older woman at first fretted over her like a mother hen, she soon learned to back off and let the girl have her space and deal in her own way._

_She didn't know much about the little brunette (who was later revealed to be blond, after her hair grew out and she no longer desired to buy hair dye) with haunted eyes; her godson didn't tell her anything more than that Lilliana Lester was 18, and had no one to call her their own. Adele thought it a crime that such a sweet, lovely child had no one to dote on her, and tried to fill this void. At least, she did for the first week. Then Lilliana's prickly nature reveals itself on the day that Adele tried to shorten her name for the benefit of the younger children in the nearby villages, who hadn't yet mastered the pronunciation of the odd American words. The girl had gone completely white, and stormed from the schoolhouse yelling a panicked "don't call me that" over her shoulder on her way out._

_She wouldn't talk about it after, but when Adele saw Clarence that night, she'd asked him about it, and he'd only sighed and told her not to try to coddle Lilliana, because it wouldn't be received well, if at all. She'd taken his advice and three years later, she'd forged a tenuous bond with the tiny blond, even piecing together bits of her story from the things she'd wake up screaming and the white scars of healed burns that marked her back, torso, and left arm._

_By the time her godson had re-re-entered her life, with a young man in tow, she'd garnished that Lilliana's father had died in the same fire he'd barely managed to rescue her from; this fire wasn't a freak accident, it was intentional; her best friend had been killed; and Lilliana wasn't really her name. She never asked about it after she'd figured that one out, and instead, stopped digging, deciding that perhaps some things were better left buried._

_The young man following Clarence was tall and stood awkwardly, his eyes darting from the ground to the door to the walls, back to the ground. Anywhere but at Lilliana, who'd seen him and stopped, paling, and then could do nothing more than stare at him, open-mouthed._

_"I've got a writer for all those stories that your pictures tell, Aunt Adele," her godson told her, and she only nodded, not willing to open whatever can of worms would result from asking Lilliana what was wrong._

_Slowly, the little girl moved forward, as if in a dream. She held out a hand, as if to touch the newcomer, then jerked back, as if afraid to prove to herself that he was nothing more than a mirage. After a long moment, the man looked up and met her eyes. Then, suddenly, she was in his arms, sobbing._

_"I thought you were dead! Oh my God, Lo-"_

_"Shh… it's okay, I'm here now. I've got you."_

_She looked up at him, and they shared a look. "What-" she started._

_"Jacob," he told her before she could finish her question. This would have surprised and confused Adele had she not figured out years ago that the people Clarence introduced her to were rarely who they said they were._

_But even Adele, who was rarely shocked by anything anymore, was surprised at Lilliana's next course of action. Her little face suddenly pinched into a frown, and she raised her hand and slapped the man who had his arms around her._

_"You bastard," she seethed "You let us believe you were dead! I thought I'd lost _everything_! You fucking asshat! How could you _do_ that to me?"_

_There were tears in her eyes again, and her voice was breaking as she started sobbing again and beating his chest. Adele flinched, and reached for the distraught girl, but her godson raised his hand to stop her and shook his head._

_"Why don't you show me around the village while they work things out?" he suggested, and she reluctantly agreed._

_As he passed Jacob, Clarence told him that there were beds inside for them to rest on when they decided to turn in. As they walked away, Adele turned back and saw that the boy had finally caught Lilliana's flailing body and pulled her into his arms again. He led her inside, and that was the last time Adele saw Lilliana or Jacob for quite a while. By the time she and Clarence returned, the pair had packed their meager belongings and moved on, leaving only a note telling Adele thanks and that they'd keep in touch._

_They do, and this is how she knows they are happily married and traveling the world together. And this is why, three years later, when two American police officers pay her a visit to ask about a Veronica Mars, who looks exactly like her Lilliana, she develops a case of temporary amnesia, and tells them she's never seen the girl before. She _definitely _doesn't remember that the little pixie girl had a companion when she left._

_

* * *

_

Another six months pass before there is any more rumor of the person they seek. And then, it isn't _her _they get wind of. There comes word of a young man fitting a description close to Duncan Kane's, accompanied by four beaming blond girls, living in Madrid.

Sheriff D'Amato and his old friend and former boss leave on the next flight to Spain. They have more luck here than they did in Africa, probably because the family is expecting them and has, apparently, decided that the easiest way to secure their future privacy is to let their pursuers know that they aren't planning on returning and there's nothing that will change their minds.

Gracie Williams, a bright beautiful 17 year old girl who was once called Grace Manning, meets them at the door, opening it before they can knock.

She smiles shyly at them and says "Come in, we've been expecting you."

She leads them into a front room so unlike anything Lamb could have pictured Duncan Kane ever living in that his jaw actually drops. The house they are in is large, but upon walking into the living room, it becomes apparent that the only reason for this is the fact that there are several people living in it. The space is far from a trashed mess, but several toys strewn about speak to the fact that there is at least one child in the household.

As they sit on a plush sofa, the man they once knew as Duncan Kane comes in to greet them, a small boy atop his shoulders. A little blond girl follows shyly behind him, her mother behind her.

They talk for hours. Duncan and Meg (now Duncan and Margaret Dobbs) have been married for four years, and they have a a five year old daughter named Daisy, and a two year old son named Noah. They live with Gracie in their modest house in a middle-class neighborhood in Madrid.

Lizzie Manning had married two years earlier and now goes by Ellie Del Valle. She and her husband, Steven, are expecting their first child any day now. The pregnancy has been difficult, and Ellie is on bed-rest, so will not be joining them today.

They are all happy, healthy, and have moved on from their old lives. Gracie will turn 18 at the end of the month, and since it would take at least that long for any sort of custody case to be brought to court, Leo agrees to keep the presence of their little family a secret.

Before they leave, Lamb takes Duncan aside and asks him about Veronica. For the longest moment, the younger man is silent. Then, finally, he nods his head.

"I have the number of a man you might could talk to about a horse."

This time, their hearts are lighter as they return home.

* * *

_Logan and Veronica changed names and lives four times over the course of the six years following the arrest and murder of Aaron Echolls. By the end of the seventh year, they too had reverted to their true first names, opting to become Logan Jacobson and Veronica Louis. They traveled all over Africa, using money from an untraceable Swiss bank account registered in the name of Payton Weidman, the name of Clarence Weidman's dead unborn brother._

_They became a team of sorts. Veronica used her photography skills to snap a new kind of "moneyshot" and Logan used his degree in Sarcasm in the English language and his extensive knowledge of the poetic to write captions and stories both heart-wrenching and hilarious. Everything was published under Adele's name, and she deposited the proceeds into their account. They lived with their ghosts amongst the worst poverty in the world._

_With their given circumstances, they couldn't have been happier._

_

* * *

_

_They are married when they are 23, both old enough to start a family, they decide (they'd chosen their families long ago). Soon after, they give up life on the move, and settle down in South Africa. Logan works for a nearby journal publishing firm, and Veronica still takes pictures of everything from the sunset to riots in the streets, and sells her pictures to a select interested few (under a cleverly disguised pseudonym)._

_They get pregnant at 24, and celebrate with a trip to Italy._

_Six and a half months later, Veronica goes into premature labor and gives birth to a tiny baby boy, Benjamin Keith Jacobson._

_He does not survive the night._

_The only reason Veronica _does_ is that they don't tell her about her son's death until two days later, when she's healed enough to take it, and far too much for them to hide it from her anymore._

_She doesn't speak for three weeks and four days. When she finally opens her mouth again, she and Logan are sitting at the kitchen table in the little townhouse in South Africa that they now own. They aren't quite finished with their supper, and it's been a while since the last time he's seen her cry, or show any emotion at all._

_Then, without warning, she opens her mouth and announces quietly: "Maybe we really weren't meant to be happy."_

_He can feel her heart breaking again just as surely as if it were his own (because it is). He wishes he could summon the only person he knew could get her through this, but that man died years ago, so he calls in the next best thing._

_Mama Adele stays for the entire South African summer, and over the course of that three months, Veronica finally tells the old woman everything. Mama Adele is no shrink, but talking to her feels a little like healing, and by the time the heat of February fades into the cool winds of March and April, the little blond woman has finally remembered how to smile at her husband, albeit weakly._

_

* * *

_

Clarence Weidman refuses to tell Lamb anything at first, saying that Veronica has had a very bad few months, and should not get upsetting calls from the people who helped make her life hell. But Lamb is persistent, and finally, nearly two years later, in late January, he gets a call from none other than Mama Adele.

She tells him that he and Leo may visit her again in South Africa, and stay in her apartment. She says that she will try to arrange for them to see their Veronica, but that they should not expect much. She's a very busy woman these days.

Lamb knows. She's still keeping busy to keep from thinking about her past.

Leo has official police business to attend to, so he drives Lamb to the airport and tells him he'll follow when things in Neptune quiet down.

* * *

_The real healing doesn't begin though, until Veronica leaves the city to take pictures in a little village half a day's drive away. She meets people there who accept her with open arms, and there is a girl about her own age who cares for the orphaned children in the village. It is no orphanage, but the children all have papers from the government, and they are all looking to be adopted._

_There is one little girl, with bright eyes and mahogany skin who toddles around after Veronica, babbling and tugging at her pants until Veronica bends to pick her up._

_"Her mother died in childbirth, nearly a year ago" Lenka tells Veronica._

_And just like that, a bond is formed. The little girl has no name, but Veronica starts calling her Adia, mentally, because it is what the little African mothers call a long-awaited and prayed-for child._

_One day, late into July, Lenka takes her aside and says, "You know, you could take her home with you."_

_Veronica shakes her head. She can't explain why, not even to someone she trusts as much as she trusts Lenka, but her circumstances prevent her and Logan from ever adopting._

_But Lenka shakes her head. "That's not what I mean, Veronica. Her mother was not well-loved by the African government. Those hiding her would be persecuted if they were ever found out. Your Adia's birth was never recorded. I know a man who can get you the papers for a cheap price, and-"_

_Veronica cuts her off. "That won't be necessary. Thank you."_

_The thought of children makes her sick sometimes. After her first pregnancy ended so disastrously, the doctor insisted on running a battery of tests, revealing the fact that Veronica's uterus and fallopian tubes were so scarred that it would be a miracle if they were to conceive again, and an even bigger miracle if she managed to carry it to term. She'd already had her miracle baby. _

_And he'd been taken from her._

_The thought of bringing a baby into the home she shares with Logan is too much. She cannot bear it. The thought makes her literally sick to her stomach, and she spends three days in bed, with something that might be the flu, but they just don't know. Even once she finally gets well, she doesn't completely get over it._

_It is two months before Logan comes to visit the village as well, and sees Veronica with Adia. It is another month before he manages to convince her to take Lenka's advice._

_The day they carry Adia to her new home is the best day of both of their lives. Clarence and Veronica arrange the papers, and Adia Lynn Jacobson is born. Adele smiles at the toddler's baptism, while praying that she doesn't have to raise this godchild too. Little Veronica has been so sick so often since the death of her son._

_

* * *

_

Lamb had been staying with Adele for two weeks before the woman informed him that Veronica was still very fragile, and probably not in the best shape to accept visitors. Especially not upsetting ones. She did not send him home, so he stayed, pressing Adele for information on the girl who had become almost an obsession for him.

After he'd lived with her for four months, she sat him down and told him.

"Last year, right before you finally found her, Veronica had a son. He was born far too early, because her body couldn't take the stress of carrying a baby, and tried to expel it… The baby died that night. She was told she would never get pregnant again. She was sick with grief. Didn't speak for weeks. I moved here to be closer to her, to help. Several months later, she went to a village to take pictures, and kept going back. She would come home at night glowing, but uneasy. One day Logan – that's her husband, by the way – went with her, to see what was going on. There was a little girl there, who needed a family, and Veronica had grown quite attached to her, but was scared to bring her home. Logan convinced her, and now they have a little girl. But then Veronica got sick again. She couldn't eat anything, and barely slept. Her old doctors kept telling us it was depression, and that we should start her on medication."

The woman took a deep breath, and finally noticed Lamb's reaction. "What?" she asked.

"Logan?"

"Yes, her husband. Logan Jacobson."

"Echolls. Logan Echolls. God... He never jumped."

The wheels turned in her head, and the clever old woman finally understood the significance of the day Logan and Veronica were reunited. But she brushed it off with a mere nod, and continued her story.

"Obviously. Now… because of the medication, we had to get some extra tests run on her. One of them revealed that the real problem wasn't depression. It was a twins. Somehow, she'd gotten pregnant, and the egg split two ways. The result was that their fight for space on the scarred uterine wall had caused a minor hemorrhage, which slowly increased as the babies grew in size and tore at the tissue. But she was lucky. She only lost one of the babies, and now she's on strict bed rest for the duration of the pregnancy. Logan was lucky her doctor agreed to let him take her home. She's nearly seven months pregnant now. I'm worried that your visit her will stress her out. And she simply can't handle that right now."

Lamb sighed and swiped his hands across his face, not bothering to mention that he wasn't sure she'd _ever_ be able to handle the stress he caused her, and couldn't, for the life of him, fathom why she'd put up with it before. Why she hadn't just told her father what he'd done to her and let Daddy Mars take care of the little Lamb.

"Yes. I – I _need_ to see her. I have so much to apologize for. So much to explain. I made her life hell back in Neptune."

"You're just here to apologize? Not to try to bring her back, or harass her?"

Lamb nodded. "There are people back at home who really miss her. Her best friend – well, after Lilly died, anyway, and another girl who used to hang out with her. But I won't – I'll keep it to myself, for now, if you think talking about home will hurt her."

_'Because I've already hurt her enough'_ he thought, but didn't say it.

The old woman nodded. "Yes. I understand there are people who miss her. Willy – Wa – Wis – whatever that boy's name was – she's spoken well of him on several occasions. But I think that, at least for now, your visit will be enough for her to handle."

Lamb gave her his word that he wouldn't mention anything about her old home unless Veronica asked him about it, and then Adele sighed.

"It might help her to hear some explanation from you. As I understand it, you're the only person she never reconciled with."

Lamb felt his heart leap in hope. He opened his mouth to ask her –

"BUT!" she cut him off, "if you so much as _think_ even _one_ thought that could _possibly_ upset her, I'll kick you out and exact my own brand of reconciliation. And no one will ever find your body."

He felt a little scared of the woman glaring at him. Daddy Mars had been terrifying in his time, Lamb was sure, but he didn't have anything on this little old woman, glaring at him with an intensity unlike anything he'd ever seen. With a gulp, he nodded at her, and she smiled brilliantly, the sudden change making him reel.

"Good. Then you can see her tomorrow afternoon."

* * *

_When Veronica found out she was pregnant, and had the smallest possibility of keeping the baby, she insisted on forgoing the recommended abortion._

_Even Logan argued with her, concerned that she'd have a miscarriage which would, without a doubt, result in hemorrhaging, and her subsequent death. He tried to tell her that he loved her just as she was; that she had nothing to prove to him or anyone else; that they could adopt as many kids as she wanted, he'd bring them both out of hiding, it wasn't that important anymore._

_But that wasn't the problem. It wasn't that she was so desperate for another child that she'd rather die than give this one up._

_It was that, after her baby boy had died, she couldn't bring herself to kill another one. Most definitely not on purpose._

_So Logan finally agreed to support her in this, and took her home, where she wasn't allowed out of bed except for twice a week when a nurse came by to help Logan give her a bath._

_The months were hard. Some days she was in so much pain that she prayed for the end. Even death would be better than the pain. Finally, despite the risks to the baby, her doctor prescribed her pain medication, and Logan forced her to take it against her own protests. Everything was made worse by the fact that she'd developed a strong bond with little Adia, and was now not even able to hold her daughter. The little girl seemed to understand well after the first time she'd tried to crawl into her _Mami_'s lap and Veronica had cried out in pain. Since then, the child would merely crawl up into the bed and cuddle herself gently to Veronica's side, content to listen to fairytales or stories from the books her _Baba _and _Nana _Adele brought back from the markets for her._

_But not being able to pick her up and play with her was hurting Veronica more than she let on. It was worse even than the physical pain that plagued her tiny body._

_She swore that the worst days were the ones without pain, though, because then she was horny as fuck, but she wasn't allowed to participate in anything remotely vigorous. Logan eventually stopped counting the days that he came home from work to her sobbing into her pillow. Not long after that, he stopped going to the office, instead writing short pieces for the local newspaper from their home. This also helped with caring for Adia. Adele was her usual caretaker, and the woman loved the little baby. But Adia had been a daddy's girl from day one, and was thrilled when Logan stayed home with her instead of going in to work._

_Some days, Veronica doubted they would ever get through this. She was so restless, horny, panicked, and in so much pain that she wanted to argue with Logan all the time, just to have something to do, just because she was so stressed out and had no outlet. But she wasn't allowed to get upset, because of the baby, so Logan never gave in to her when she tried to start a fight. Usually he would just climb into bed with her and hold her tightly to him and she would scream into his chest._

_By the sixth month, things were getting better. The baby was big enough that the fetus no longer hung from her uterine wall, and thus wasn't at constant risk of detaching itself. It was also significantly less painful for her, though there were still some very bad days. Even the situation with little Adia was better. The toddler had been steadily learning new words, and it delighted both the girl and Veronica whenever she would point to something new and give it a name – even when the name she gave it was wrong, a situation that usually ended in fits of giggles from everyone in the room._

_Around this same time, Logan found out that he could relieve Veronica's stress somewhat by carefully bringing her to gentle orgasms. This last hurdle successfully jumped, they lived much more contently. Except for one thing._

_Veronica wasn't gaining nearly enough weight. This was especially concerning, because in the first three months of her pregnancy, she dropped nearly 20 lbs, and continued to lose weight in the next two months. Since then she had only gained back 8 lbs, and throughout her pregnancy had lost a total of 27 lbs. This didn't even take into account the weight she'd lost after her first son had died. Despite sleeping most of the time, and eating dutifully whenever Logan woke her with a meal, she was pale and skeletal beneath the covers._

_By the time she hit month seven, she was begging the doctors to push the due date forward. They were scheduled to perform a C-section once she made it to the 32 week mark, but at week 28, she felt ready to die. The baby had surpassed the comfortably large size it had been a month earlier, and now the constant pressure in her abdomen made her queasy and uncomfortable. To ease her pain and mental anguish, the doctor gave her medications to make her sleep most of the time, and put her on a strict diet of foods that would make her gain as much weight as possible._

_Logan and Adele and Veronica all worried how this would affect the baby, but it could not be helped. When she wasn't drugged up to her eyeballs and made to sleep, Veronica was so uncomfortable and stressed that the risk to her and the baby far outweighed the risks posed by taking medicine._

_She had just hit week 29 when Adele came into her room to wake her._

_"Veronica, dear? There's a man here to see you, honey." _

_The look on Adele's face made Veronica uneasy and she began to protest automatically._

_Adele shushed her gently and took her thin hand._

_"Veronica, he's been here for months, waiting to see you. I've talked to him and I think he's got some important things to tell you. I think it might help you to see him, honey."_

_Without giving her a chance to protest again, Adele got up and opened the door._

_And in walked none other than Don Lamb._

_

* * *

_

Don had braced himself to see Veronica, but nothing he'd imagined could have prepared him for the sight before him now.

Veronica was bone thin, and paler than the sheets on which she lay. There were dark circles around her eyes, and he could tell that she was in pain just by looking at her.

Whether that pain was from her current physical state or her reaction to his arrival, he wasn't sure. He guessed it was about 50/50.

Finally she stopped staring at him, and closed her eyes. Slowly, she sighed, and he pretended he didn't hear the tremble.

"Lamb," she shuddered, though he figured she was trying to sound stand-offish.

"Veronica," he said, and he, for once, didn't try to hide the emotions running through him. He moved to sit in the chair beside her bed, and reached out to touch her arm. Unsurprisingly, she pulled away.

"Before you throw me out, just let me say one thing. I'm sorry, Veronica. I'm so, so sorry, for everything. Please – I don't expect you to forgive me, but please, just believe that I am truly sorry for anything I ever did to hurt you."

She said nothing, and for a long while, there wasn't a single sound in the room. Then, without warning, she let out a harsh sob.

"You – you _killed_ me! You bastard! All I did was ask you to do your goddamned _job_ and you stabbed me in the heart! I cut my hair and became a badass because if I didn't bite back, the pain would have swallowed me whole!"

She could barely breathe, she was sobbing so hard, and Lamb grew worried, remembering what Adele had told him about not upsetting her.

"I'm sorry, Veronica, but you need to calm down. Don't get worked up, please!" he begged her. At her withering glare, he added lamely, "Adele said you could get hurt."

"Since when do _you_ care about hurting _me_?" she hissed, swiping the tears roughly from her cheeks.

"Veronica –"

"Get out."

There was no room for argument in her voice. Lamb sighed and got up. "I'm not going to leave just yet," he told her, stopping at the door, but not turning around. "For what little it's worth, I'll be here if you need _anything_… I'll let you know before I decide to go back."

As he strode out of her house, her faint "Don't bother…" hung in the air.

* * *

In her time as a photojournalist, Veronica had come into contact with more unsavory people than she'd expected with that particular job. Many of the people she and Logan met were wonderful, and she thoroughly enjoyed spending time with them. But there were always those who made her skin crawl and re-awakened the nightmares of burning freezers and the smell of gasoline.

However, nothing she'd ever encountered, in Africa or Neptune, had prepared her to deal with the Minister of the South African Defence force.

Abrafo Ngige was a cruel, vengeful man. He'd built his entire life around his job, and around proceeding quickly through the ranks. He'd been largely successful, mostly due to his ability to inspire fear in everyone he met.

And he'd met Eshe Okoro (though she hadn't feared him by any stretch of the imagination). And he _hated_ Eshe Okoro, and everything she tried to accomplish. When she'd fallen off the radar a little less than two years ago, he'd made it his personal mission to track her down and watch her hanged.

Never mind that they no longer hung people in South Africa. He just wanted to see her suffer.

So when he learned, through the reliable (albeit slow) grapevine of the South African underworld that Eshe Okoro had died in _childbirth_, he was irate. Not only would he never see her suffer, but she'd carried on her bloodline. He made finding and eliminating the child his next vendetta, along with persecution of all those involved in concealing Eshe and the baby.

Veronica had also met Eshe Okoro; she and Logan had done a little piece on her. But it had been years ago, long before they'd thought to get married, and far away from South Africa.

So Eshe Okoro never crossed either of their minds anymore.

But it was their piece on the woman that caught the attention of Abrafo Ngige. And it was their tiny, insignificant blurb on her, that had led him to Eshe's old village in Sudan, then to another abode in Uganda. Eventually, he ended up in the village outside of South Africa, and found a small woman named Lenka in charge of the local orphan-house.

"Eshe Okoro's baby," he stated harshly, "which one is she?"

Lenka shook her head and pretended not to know who he was talking about. "We've never received a baby under that name before. All our papers are in order."

He checked, poured over every receipt they'd ever run, every shipment they'd ever received. He found nothing.

Nothing save for a single photograph which included a young, sickly white woman holding a little decidedly _not_ white baby.

A decidedly not white baby whose picture and file he could not find, no matter how far back he looked.

"This woman, who is she?" he asked. By now he knew not to ask Lenka; the girl would give him nothing. But there was a young man who delivered milk to the house every day. And it was from this man that Abrafo got the name Veronica Jacobson – a photographer who lived in the city with her husband.

It didn't take him any time at all to find their address.

* * *

Logan kissed her goodbye and left with Adele to go to the market. Veronica had been craving fruit lately, and there was no shortage of fresh fruits in the nearby street market, so Logan and Adele frequently left her to her nap with Adia while they went to pick out the ripest, juiciest fruits they could find.

Veronica had just fallen back into her slumber when there was a sharp knock at the door. Adia, the little light of their lives, asleep beside her mommy, awoke with a cry at the sound.

Veronica, drugged and unable to get out of her bed anyway, chose to call Logan and then ignore whoever was pounding at her door. But as she flipped open her phone, she heard the sound of splintering wood as her door was broken down.

She paused for a split second, feeling sick to her stomach at what her options were now limited to.

Adele lived two doors over, and that's where Lamb was staying. By the time he picked up the phone, Veronica was sobbing quietly, clutching Adia to her, doubled over in pain on the ground just outside of her window.

"Hello?"

"Lamb," she choked out. "Help. I'm outside my window."

"Veronica, what in God's name possessed you to – I'll be there in three seconds, don't move a muscle. Stay on the line with me."

She could only nod, unable to speak through her terrified sobs. There was crashing coming from her bedroom, and Adia was fidgeting anxiously. Veronica could tell she was only seconds away from wailing in that throaty little voice of hers.

"Please, don't… please, shh, shh, Adia…"

It was no use. The toddler opened her little mouth and started screaming, alerting the intruders to their presence.

As Veronica struggled up, a mean looking man stuck his head out of the window and cursed. The window was far too small for him to crawl out of, but it was big enough for him to stick his huge, muscled arm through and grab her by the wrist.

She screamed, feeling the vomit rising in her throat and the pain tug in her belly as the strong arm yanked her back.

"Please… I'm pregnant… I can't…"

"You're under arrest," a cold voice answered, and she heard the man order one of his lackeys to go around and cuff her.

She was sobbing, terrified. She had no idea what she could have possibly done; she'd been lying in a bed for the past four months. She could hear footsteps behind her and she began to sob harder, begging the men to just let her go back to bed. Her legs were shaking and throbbing as muscles she hadn't used in months screamed their protest at being forced to run and then climb out of a window.

When a gentle hand cupped her neck, she yelped a little, before registering that it was Lamb standing beside her. In a uniform she was fairly certain he hadn't worn in many years.

"Play along, okay?" he muttered, as two large black men with the badges of South African police came around the side of the building.

As they approached menacingly, Lamb cleared his throat.

"Just what the hell do you think you're doing?" he asked haughtily, pulling out his own badge and making sure they got a nice view of his gun.

The South African policemen were not allowed to carry their guns with them. They had tasers. Lamb bit his lip to hide his smug smile at this fact.

The man holding Veronica stuck his head out of the window to see who dared interrupt his vendetta. When he saw the clearly American uniform, he cringed. Americans were lazy. Which meant that whatever reason this man had for being here with the woman he wanted to kidnap would far outweigh his own excuse to bring her in.

But he had to – literally, he was required by law to explain himself in these circumstances – _had_ to try. "This woman is under arrest for aiding an enemy of the state."

Lamb snorted. "Well, sorry to tell you buddy, but we've had her under surveillance for a while now. She's been pretty damn sick with this pregnancy. This is the first time she's gotten out of that bed without being carried in four months. And before that, she'd been too sick to do something as strenuous as aiding a criminal."

The burly man who'd finally let her go under Lamb's pointed stare snorted. "And why exactly would the American police want her?"

"She's coming back with me as soon as she has this baby and it's safe for her to travel. She's the key witness in a very important murder trial. Gonna take down the big guns, this one." Lamb faked nonchalance, while surreptitiously pulling Veronica closer to him, trying to take as much of her slight weight as he could in their present position.

"Well –" the African man said, now grasping angrily at straws. "I still have to book her. C'mon, boys, cuff her."

Lamb dropped the sneekiness in his act and just scooped Veronica up into his arms, Adia still clutched tightly in hers.

"Absolutely not. Do you know how much you've already risked just by scaring her? Not even to mention that she had to get out of bed and crawl out of the fucking _window_. She's on bed rest – _strict_ bed rest, until next week, when they can take the baby out. Goddamnit, I've got to get her to the hospital right now! If she loses this baby, it's not just the baby you're risking here. She isn't physically well enough to survive that. You can ask her whatever you need to ask her after her doctor tells you so. Not before."

He began to stalk off, anger growing by the second, because Veronica wasn't looking so great. She was grey and sweaty, and floating in and out of consciousness.

"Stay with me, Mars," he drawled.

Her eyes fluttered open and she whimpered "Hurts."

He nodded. "Don't worry. I'll get you to the hospital and the doctor will take care of that."

She didn't remember anything else after that.

* * *

Lamb called Leo. Lamb called Wallace and Mac. Lamb called an old buddy who worked with the FBI. Lamb called Keith Mars' old buddies, who worked in the FBI. And any lawyers they had between them.

By the time the doctors had managed to pull a beautiful baby girl from Veronica's uterus, and stitch her back up, and stop all of the bleeding, and the pain, Lamb had secured an order from the United States government, stating that Veronica was to be allowed home, along with her husband and daughters, and all charges were to be dropped against her from the African government.

Because Veronica didn't even know it yet, but Lamb hadn't been lying when he told Abrafo Ngige that she was the key to putting away some very bad people. He'd just forgotten the difference between past and future tense for a moment.

Between the files on Veronica's laptop and the files at Mars Investigations, Lamb had been able to put Liam – and most of the rest of the Fitzpatrick clan away for good.

And just a year after he'd locked them up, Liam had been killed in an altercation that he'd foolishly started with the guards. Not long after that, Vincent Van Lowe had helped him take down the Sorokins. Turned out the man had been an undercover fed the whole damn time.

And _God_ but he was the most annoying man Lamb had ever met. And he seemed to enjoy it.

Lamb shook his head to clear these thoughts from his mind. It had been Vinny who'd convinced Lamb to look for Veronica, and as soon as the boy had turned 18, Wallace Fennel had come back to Neptune to join in the FindVeronica crusade. Without the two of them, and Leo, of course, Lamb never would have gotten as far as he had. And that weird computer chick. Mac? Fit to try Kane, that one.

But he should tell Veronica about Vinny and the FBI thing. It would crack her up.

* * *

When Veronica woke up, she was lying in a hospital bed, and Logan was sitting in a chair beside her.

"Hey," he whispered, smiling sadly at her.

She nodded at him, not quite trusting her voice.

"Do you remember what happened?"

Again, a nod.

"Well, the doctors had to go ahead and do the C-section. It's a little girl. She's beautiful. And you're going to be sore for a while, but the doc thinks you'll be fine."

Veronica looked at him, eyes wide. "She's… she's alive?" her voice cracked. She'd been so sure she'd lose this baby too, especially after having to climb through the goddamn window.

But Logan nodded. "The nurse said she's healthy. A little small, and she needs to be in an incubator for a few days, but she'll be fine. We have another daughter, Veronica."

At this, Veronica gasped. "Adia, where is she?"

"With Lamb and Adele. You should see Lamb with her. She's got him wrapped."

Veronica laughed again through her tears. "If he hadn't been there – oh, God, Logan! I told the police, I told them I was pregnant and would lose the baby if they didn't let me go back to bed, but they were going to arrest me anyway! They didn't care! If Lamb hadn't been there, I'd…"

She couldn't continue, thinking about losing her little girl. Logan shushed her and stroked her arm.

"I know…so…" he began, a little uneasy with broaching this whole topic. "Lamb…"

"Yeah… I – I can't lie, Logan. It hurt, what he did to me. But if it weren't for him, our baby wouldn't be here. I probably wouldn't be here. I can't – I can't just overlook that to stay mad at him, Logan. I thought I'd forgiven him a long time ago, but now? Now I know I have."

Logan smiled and nodded. Pressing a kiss to her forehead, he said gently, "Then I forgive him too."

* * *

Lamb walked slowly to Veronica's room. Logan had said she wanted to see him, but he wouldn't say why.

He could guess why. He hadn't gotten there fast enough, she still hated him… there were a thousand things Veronica was likely to say to him.

When he reached her room, he saw that she was sitting, propped up in bed, her eyes riveted on something beside her. As he entered and got closer, he saw the tiny pink bundle lying in an incubator beside her bed.

"She's gorgeous," he breathed before he could stop himself.

She looked up at him and smiled uneasily.

"Hey… I wanted –"

He cut her off. "I know… but before we hash this out, will you at least tell me her name?" he almost added 'so I can at least look her up in 20 years', but wisely kept his mouth shut.

"Don –" she began, and he cut her off again, angry this time.

"No, Veronica. You don't get to hate me so much that you can't even tell me the name of the baby whose _life_ I saved, and still get to be on first-name-basis with me!"

He really didn't know why he was so mad at her. Probably just because the adrenaline hadn't worn off yet.

But Veronica started to laugh at him, much to his surprise.

"You're an idiot," she told him, but there was no malice in her voice.

"What?" he asked, now thoroughly confused.

"I wasn't about to tell you to go away and leave us alone because I'd hate you forever. I wasn't even saying your name. I was telling you hers. We're naming her Dawn."

His eyes widened as he let this knowledge sink into his brain. "You're naming your child after me," he said. It wasn't a question, it was just complete shock.

"Yes. And that part you don't have a say in, though we would like your blessing. We'd also like you to be their godfather. We've had Adia baptized already, but, well… there's just Adele, and she's getting to be too old to take care of kids, should anything happen to us, and –"

And now it was time to cut her off again, before she flew off on a nervous ramble about the logical reasons for Lamb to be the godfather. "You don't have to explain it, Mars."

Then he moved up to the tiny pink bundle curled inside the incubator, and reached in to stroke the baby's hand.

"Dawn Echolls. Beautiful." He grinned.

When the baby opened her eyes and stared up at him, his grin grew wider.

"Hey baby girl. I'm your godfather."

And everything that had been broken suddenly felt whole again.


End file.
